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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26187061">#313 248 317 - 60</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salt_Teen/pseuds/Salt_Teen'>Salt_Teen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Original Character(s), Robbery, but it's only a little important, there isn't much to say guys</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:29:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26187061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salt_Teen/pseuds/Salt_Teen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe they will stay together, become respectable people, become a little family of sorts. "</p>
<p>Sixty doesn't know what he's doing. Or where he's going. Or anything really. </p>
<p>Well, he knows Debbie needs a new arm. Preferably sooner rather than later.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>#313 248 317 - 60</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>     "I'll keep watch tonight." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Debbie looks at him, an eyebrow raised. "Sixty, I love you, but you better not disappear in the middle of the night again, okay?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "I won't." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "Pinke promise?" She holds out the stub of her missing arm. Sixty isn't sure if she doesn't realize or is joking, but he grabs it awkwardly in his own hand anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "Yeah..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     This seems to appease her. Debbie sighs and closes her eyes, the yellow light on her temple confirming that she's gone into standby. Keeping one eye on the small window beside him, Sixty draws his jacket closer around himself. It was some winter jacket he'd taken off a dead android.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     If someone had told him a few weeks ago that he would be hiding out in an abandoned house with an AX400 he'd run into on the streets? He might have laughed. Probably not, he wouldn't have understood what was funny. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     But a lot had happened. A whole android uprising. Cyberlife had activated him to deal with an RK800 who wasn't following orders. Sixty followed orders. He confronted the RK800, he nearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>died</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing what they'd asked of him. He was lucky they were able to fix him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     And then the revolution had to go and succeed and they dumped him and all the other RK800s out into the world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Naturally, Sixty decided the best thing to do was commit a crime.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     If following orders has gotten him nowhere, the only thing left is to ignore them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     There were limits, he wasn't planning anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>big, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he wasn't planning on strictly adhering to any rules. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     That's part of the reason he finds himself slipping away from Debbie, away from the house, and into the streets. The air is cold, he can't really feel it though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Maybe Debbie will be gone in a few weeks, and Sixty will run himself into the ground. Maybe they will stay together, become respectable people, become a little family of sorts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Sixty idly kicks a pile of thirium soaked snow. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Only visible to me. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Most of the city has been cleared, but some streets are still littered with dead androids. There should be at least one AX400 who no longer needs a left arm. Debbie will be mad at him, she'd said not to go out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>She'll get it. A new arm will be hard to ignore. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Sixty finds what he's looking for in about half an hour. He makes quick work of relieving the android of her arm, but he stands over her for a minute. Taking in the nearly invisible shock in her face, and the hole in the middle of her forehead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He sheds a few tears for her, knowing full well that no one else will. This android will be scrapped. She will never live again, whatever- or </span>
  <em>
    <span>whoever-</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was is gone. This nameless face on the ground could have very easily been him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Lucky. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So fucking lucky. Lucky someone cared about me enough to not leave me bleeding in that awful warehouse. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     This AX400 had not been as lucky as him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Sixty wipes the wetness from his face and begins heading back to the house he'd left Debbie at. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Just before entering, he slips the AX400 arm into his jacket sleeve and pulls his own arm back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     When he walks in, Debbie is wide awake. Waiting for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "So, what was it this time? Did that hat you saw back a few blocks ago catch your interest after all?" She was definitely annoyed, but he could tell she was poking fun at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "Nope, something else did." He holds out the fake arm to her, waving for her to grab it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The second she grabs it, he thrusts his arm forward, revealing the gift. Her eyes light up, for just a moment, then she scrambles to roll up her jacket sleeve. Sixty helps her slot the arm into place. Within a couple minutes, it's attached and her skin rolls over it, and she is whole again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Debbie spends a few seconds testing the hand's range of motion before rolling her jacket sleeve back down. Sixty sits by the window, looking up into the all-consuming darkness of the night sky. Eyes taking in pitch-black clouds and already deceased stars. Debbie sits next to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     It was almost too easy to believe they hadn't just robbed a store a few hours ago. The weight of the gun in his hand was familiar, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>giving </span>
  </em>
  <span>the command and not receiving it had made him feel powerful. Even if it was just some kid on the wrong side of twenty cowering before him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He might have shot the boy if Debbie hadn't stepped in. They left with what they took and had a very heated whispering match while finding somewhere to hide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"You don't even know him!" </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>"Someone does, Sixty!" </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     The hurt in her eyes had been personal. It was then he remembered the uncovered hand Debbie had held towards him, and the memories she had shared with him. He remembered the teenage boy she had been traveling with. The one who had treated her like a mom. The one who had taken her LED and shaved the left side of her hair. The one who had been mistaken for an android in the heat of panic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Sixty remembered the boy's face, unmoving, and how Debbie cut off the connection so abruptly. How she had been crying when he opened his eyes again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "What are you thinking about?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "... We should leave Detroit. Stay together, become respectable people." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "Are you getting tired of robbing corner stores for supplies?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Sixty laughs quietly, Debbie smiles almost sadly at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     Then her face takes on a more serious expression. "We'll get there. We'll get a nice house." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "We'll have jobs and be upstanding citizens." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "And no one will know where we came from." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "You mean nobody will suspect that we're criminals." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "Yeah, that." </span>
</p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>We'll get there. We'll stay together and become respectable people. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>do I know what this is? no. <br/>will i write more about this? Maybe.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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